


He Was No Longer

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: AU-Russia takes over the world, Canada is a fucking amazing assasin, Multi, Russia is a bastard, There are hints at Momma England and Prucan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-15
Updated: 2012-09-15
Packaged: 2017-11-14 07:37:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Russia somehow prolongs the cold war for a ridiculously long period of time, kills America, and fucks everything to hell. Then angry female Canada assasinates him. It's better than I make it out to be. I hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Was No Longer

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own shit. If I did, you know there would be sex and death everywhere.

A lone, pale woman stood there, looking at the palace her 'mother' had disappeared into so very many years ago.

She couldn't even her 'mother's voice any longer. Her older brother had kept them safe, for two-hundred years.

But then, he lost. He lost the war. He lost the war, and he had died. Faded, as though he did not matter.

No one knew about her, but her mother had been taken. No, no one knew about her. She who was so quiet.

And she stood there, in her best dress, the one she had made herself, with a knife concealed on the inside of it.

She walked to the door, and lifted the knocker, barely being able to bring it down on the door. As she waited in the cold, her blonde hair was lifted by a cold breeze, and she could almost hear a voice telling her to leave, to go back, but she ignored it.

And when the door opened, the man standing there looked at where she stood, but saw nothing. And she breezed past him, into the cold palace.

The white marble stones made it look as though it were made out of ice, and she couldn't help but feel trapped when the door closed. She moved down the hallway, careful not to touch anything, just in-case. She swept up the staircase, to the door way where she had seen him enter so many times. She had taken this path so many times during the past few weeks, learning the layout of the palace. She opened the door quietly, and closed it in the same fashion. She entered, slowly, cautiously. And she walked to the desk, to where he sat, doing paperwork.

She tapped him on the shoulder, and watched as he turned. Watched his face light up when he saw it was her. 'His little bird', as he called her.

She wondered if he knew that was what her precious love had called her before he had taken him away from her. But no, he couldn't know that. He thought she loved him. He thought she had been a virgin. He believed the lies she had told him about that awful night. And how could he know? He had been drunk. Terribly drunk.

He stood up, and kissed her, as he did every time. She wondered how he could even find it within himself to look at her, to tell her he loved her, when he held every other nation on Earth the same way, whispered the same words in their ears, made 'love' to them the same way. He was a monster. He did not deserve the blood coursing through his veins, he did not deserve the life that possessed his body. He should die.

And, as she drove the knife through his heart, die he did. He fell to his knees, looking at her with the most shocked look on his face.

"Why?"

Such a simple question. Russia never heard the answer. And with that, they were free. And Madeline Williams, the personification of Canada, was invisible no longer.

**Author's Note:**

> This is just something that I wrote a long fucking time ago, and I felt like posting, because it's not a total fuck up.


End file.
